Love and Some Verses
by ifyoucantsleep
Summary: She shifted her gaze from the sky above her to the large duffel bag on the ground to her left. Half to make sure no one had taken it when she had dozed off, half hoping it was never there in the first place and she wasn't actually in this situation.
1. Say What You Can Say

Quinn Fabray's eyelids fluttered open when the first snowflake hit her cheek, revealing two apathetic hazel orbs. Her blonde hair was splayed out on the cold, wooden park bench beneath her. Two black converse-clad, size 7 feet on the armrest, knees bent, hands tucked into the front pockets of her gray hoodie. She shifted her gaze from the sky above her to the large duffel bag on the ground to her left. Half to make sure no one had taken it when she had dozed off, half hoping it was never there in the first place and she wasn't actually in this situation.

A couple walked past her bench on the gravel path that snaked through the park in the center of Lima. Quinn imagined they were going back to their home, seeing as how it was almost dusk. She pictured their home as warm and cozy, though she supposed that was mostly a projection of what she wished for most at the moment. What she wished for most being both somewhere warm and cozy as well as a home.

The sixteen-year-old watched as the couple walked arm in arm out of her line of vision. She had not cried when her now ex-boyfriend shook his head in disdain and handed her the large bag of her belongings about 4 hours earlier. She figured it hadn't hit her yet that she was homeless. That or she had just given up on things working out for her. Then again, she knew it was her fault. Not the getting pregnant part, she had come to terms with that, but the part where she had lied about the paternity. In a way she had convinced herself she deserved this. Which is why she had not called the father of the accident-turned-lifeform that was now growing inside her. Quinn had not called anyone for that matter. Her cell phone was in fact off and tucked away inside her bag, most likely collecting voicemails and texts that would bombard her all at once whenever she decided to turn it back on. She had hurt too many people and was tired of being a burden.

There was a thin layer of snow slowly melting into her clothes and she sat up, brushing it off gently. The blonde sighed softly and crossed her arms across her chest. She was cold. Really cold. Knowing she should probably do something about it, she stood up. Soon realizing she had no idea where to go, she sat back down, contemplating turning on her phone. She closed her eyes in defeat. There were a number of people she could call, but being as stubborn as she was, the ex-cheerleader simply could not make herself do it. She wished someone would just come find her, drag her with them to their home, and insist on her staying. That way she might feel less like a burden; more wanted.

The sound of footsteps on the now lightly snow-covered gravel growing closer _should_ have made her open her eyes, but she just didn't care anymore. She didn't want to see happy people walking, jogging, or running to their cozy homes and cozy families. She didn't want to be reminded that she had nothing. The footsteps stopped in front of her. She still refused to open her eyes.

"Quinn?" A small, but vaguely familiar voice asked.

Quinn supposed the voice belonged to the feet that had been crunching along the path, stopping in front of her. As soon as she opened her eyes, she regretted her previous thoughts about wanting to be found by someone. The worried brown eyes gazing at her now, as the sunlight was just about gone, belonged to one Rachel Berry. Her wavy brown hair was tucked underneath a bright pink beanie, strewn about her puffy blue winter jacket, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans. The blonde refrained from making a backhanded comment about her outfit. The nicknames Quinn usually referred to her as included, but were not limited to the following: Man hands, treasure trail, Ru Paul.

"Rachel," Quinn breathed out, too tired to insult the small girl in front of her. It wasn't worth hurting more people, and she didn't blame the singer for Finn (the aforementioned now ex-boyfriend) finding out about the paternity of the blonde's child. The truth would have come out eventually. Probably better sooner than later.

"What are you doing out here? It's getting dark," Rachel said. Her voice filled with concern, but not losing its usual dictatorial tone, "it is also, if you haven't noticed, snowing quite a bit. The local news station is saying we're supposed to get up to eight inches tonight alone! I was getting in my last outdoor exercise for the day before it got bad. Why aren't you indoors? This cannot be good for you, and definitely not good for the baby. I know I really screwed up when I spilled the beans to Finn today, and I know I already apologized, and I'm not expecting you to forgive me any time soon, but I can't in good conscience just let you-"

Rachel's tirade was cut short when her eyes met the duffel on the ground between herself and the pregnant teen. The brunette's eyes immediately shot up to meet Quinn's, only to find them trained on the bag in front of her dejectedly.

"Finn kicked you out," she said slowly. The blonde lifted her gaze to meet the brunette's and they shared a sad look before the smaller girl walked over and gingerly sat on the bench a few inches from Quinn.

Quinn's gaze was now looking despairingly off into the distance, not focusing on anything in particular. She didn't want to vocalize. She didn't want to move. Nothing was worth it anymore. Not even telling the girl she had tormented for years to leave her alone. Because, in truth, Quinn did not want to be alone. If anything she wanted the warm form next to her to scoot close enough for her to possibly steal some of the brunette's body heat.

"Why aren't you at Puck's? Or Brittany's? Or Santana's?" Rachel asked.

The converse-clad girl did not answer. _Because I don't deserve their hospitality,_ she wanted to say, _because I don't deserve anyone's._ She stayed silent.

"I know at school you said you wanted to be alone, but..." the brunette hesitated, took a breath, and continued confidently, "Do you need a place to stay?" Letting out the breath, which they could both see in front of them, she waited for a response.

The answer came in the form of what Rachel would categorize as an unbearably heartbreaking look from the blonde. Quinn hadn't wanted to say it. To admit she needed someone, anyone to care for her or take her in. Luckily, the dark haired girl understood and simply got to her feet, picked up the duffel with one hand, and extended the other to the saddened teenager in front of her.

Quinn wanted to ask why. Why Rachel would even consider offering her her home, her kindness. She wanted to hear that it was because she deserved it, and not because of the baby. But she knew what the answer would be, so she quietly reached out her trembling hand to the welcoming one in front of her, intertwined their fingers, and lifted herself from the bench.

The walk to the Berry's home was a short one, but enough to get Quinn's blood flowing into her fingers and toes again. She had yet to let go of the smaller girl's hand. Afraid that if she broke the contact, she might be alone again. It was irrational, yes, but she wasn't going to risk changing the brunette's mind.

They climbed the front steps of the white house Quinn assumed belonged to the girl whose hand she was grasping tightly. Once inside, Quinn finally released the singer's hand, feeling as though it was finally okay to do so.

"My dads are away on business until tomorrow evening, so you shouldn't worry about being a burden," Rachel said, practically reading the blonde's thoughts, "Not that you should worry about being a burden even if they _were_ home, but..." Unsure of how to finish the sentence, she then told Quinn to follow her upstairs, placing the large bag in a dark room the ex-cheerleader assumed was the guest room.

Quinn tuned the brunette out as she began talking about the guest room, where the bathroom was, a string of questions about the blonde needing anything from the kitchen, and where the kitchen was. Rachel was flipping on all the lights in the guest room and failed to notice the other girl had walked across the hall to her own room when she had started her rant.

The pregnant girl's eyes moved about the singer's room, taking in everything slowly. She stopped when her eyes landed on the bed. The big, comfy, cozy bed she assumed felt like home. Precisely what she had been longing for.

In the guest room the brunette had realized the other girl was no longer listening to her. She wasn't even in the room anymore.

"Quinn?" Rachel called, moving around the queen sized bed in the guest room to see where the other girl had gone off to. She looked up and down the hallway, perplexed. "Where'd you go?" This was almost a whisper.

The small girl made her way across the hall and lightly pushed her bedroom door open. There was a damp looking gray hoodie on the ground, and she sighed a bit when she saw the blonde asleep in her bed. Knowing the Quinn must be exhausted, she refrained from waking her up to move her to the other room.

The homeless girl had said only one word to Rachel since she'd found her in the park. Her name. It was troubling the dark haired girl that her peer had been so quiet, but instead of dwelling she proceeded to pick up the hoodie and hang it over the chair in front of her desk. Next, the singer began gently untying the sleeping girl's shoes, pulling them off as delicately as she could, as not to wake the shoes' owner.

Rachel grabbed a blanket from the closet in the hallway and covered the unconscious girl before taking a change of clothes from her bureau, turning off the lights, and walking back into the guest room.


	2. Someday Drawing You Different

Quinn could feel cool air rushing past her face. She opened her eyes, she was falling. Maybe flying, she couldn't tell, it was too bright. The only thing the blonde knew is that she felt safe. Wherever this breeze was taking her was starting to feel more and more like home.

Her feet hid the ground with a thud, but it didn't hurt. She was barefoot and there was green grass between her toes. Looking down at herself she realized her stomach was flat. The baby bump was gone and she ran her fingers over the pink fabric of the dress that covered her.

"Mommy!" A high-pitched voice broke her from her reverie, gaze shooting forward.

The teenager was in a sun-kissed field that spread in all directions, it was seemingly endless. A hundred yards or so in front of her stood a tree. Tall and strong, a swing hanging from one of its branches. Just as her eyes met the seat of the swing, so did a pair of tiny hands.

Quinn was now right next to the swaying seat, each of her hands wrapped around the braided twine. She looked down and her eyes met the tiny child's. They were big and brown, but full of tears. The blonde knew this was her daughter sitting on the swing in front of her. She felt a pang in her heart and began to push the girl gently, now behind her.

With each push the teen mother felt as though the swing was getting further away from her. The tree was growing, taking the branch and the swing attached to it as well. Quinn waited for it to sway back over her head, and with all her strength leapt straight up, fingers curling around the edge of the seat her daughter was perched atop. Her feet connected with the ground once again as it swung forward, but she refused to let go. The blonde ran across the grass, her arms nearly hyper-extended above her head.

Once her body could stretch no further, she felt her feet lift from the ground again, swinging out with her daughter. The child let out a shriek as Quinn's fingers began to slip from the wood, splinters embedding themselves into the skin of her palms.

As the ex-cheerleader's fingers gave way, she stared wide-eyed at the earth that was rushing up to meet her. Suddenly she no longer felt at home. The feeling of security that had accompanied her first descent had changed to gripping fear. Quinn smashed into the muddy earth as the wind picked up. Whipping her head around, she attempted to stand, to run after her daughter.

The sight in front of her nearly tore her heart out. The sky had darkened considerably, black clouds rolling in, lightning striking between them. Trying to rise again, Quinn let out a frustrated sob. As the mud around her began to swallow her whole, she watched as the clouds seemed to reach down and wrap themselves around her screaming daughter.

The mud started to cover her face, pouring itself into every orifice. It slid down her throat and she choked, struggling with all her might to break free from its grasp. It seeped into Quinn's eyes and she sucked in a lump of wet dirt as she remembered the terror on her child's face. She didn't even get to hold the girl before she had been taken away.

The mother realized everything was black. She couldn't breathe. She was going to die, she couldn't save her own daughter.

Quinn shot up in bed, gasping for air. Barely noticing she was covered in a thin layer of sweat as she threw the blankets off of herself, racing to the window. Her small hands frantically grasped the wooden frame and pulled it up. An icy blast of frigid winter air hit her face and she breathed in deeply, closing her eyes and clutching her swollen abdomen. She still had her baby. She was safe.

It was still dark, and snow was falling heavily outside the Berry's home. Quinn could see her breath form a cloud in front of her with each exhale as she leaned out the window. The light haired girl hated the nightmares. Though they had never felt as horrible as this last one, they always hurt. Staying with her throughout the days. A reminder of her maternal anxiety; the uncertainty of it all.

Finally feeling a bit better, Quinn shut the window with trembling hands before placing them back on her baby bump. Her feet lead her out into the hall. She needed to know she wasn't alone, she needed that feeling of safety.

Assuming Rachel had taken up residency in the guest room, she walked to the door opposite hers. Slowly she turned the knob, pushing her way into the room as quietly as she could. The soft light from the hallway illuminated the sleeping brunette's face and Quinn suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over her.

_Not now, _she chided silently to herself, trying to push the contrite thoughts to the back of her head. She didn't want to feel worse, but she couldn't help it. She'd hurt so many people, even the one that was asleep across the room, the one that had given her a place to stay. The girl she had plagued for years for reasons she had yet to figure out. Quinn was so ashamed. She didn't deserve help, and especially not from Rachel. Tears stung the corners and she let out a choked sob, immediately covering her mouth.

Rachel stirred on the bed, cracking one tired eye open and then the other.

"Rach-" the blonde's voice dropped off as another sob shook her small frame, "Rachel," she couldn't seem to form the words she wanted to. At a loss as to what she was going to do next, she squeezed her eyes shut and began to cry. The whimpers that escaped her mouth started slowly, but worked up to full fledged bawling. She'd never felt so vulnerable or alone and it was rapidly tearing her apart. She wanted to fall to the floor, curl up, and disappear.

Soon Quinn felt small arms snake around her waist and she fell into the embrace, her own arms around the dark haired girl's shoulders. The feeling of security she longed for was being exuded slowly but surely from the arms that had enveloped her. Relief came with a surge of heart-wrenching grief. Grief for being kicked out twice, for getting pregnant, for hurting everyone around her. She'd seen herself wrecking all her relationships but hadn't been able to stop. She started to wail into Rachel's hair, thankful the other girl's fathers weren't home to hear her.

Rachel moved them both carefully back to the bed, beginning to whisper reassurances into her companion's ear along the way.

"Hey, it's okay," the raven-haired girl nearly pleaded as she got Quinn up on the bed, releasing her grasp only for a moment to pull the blankets up around them, "Everything is going to be all right, I promise," Rachel nearly pleaded and this only seemed to make the girl cry harder.

Quinn desperately reached out for the smaller girl as she settled into the pillows, practically pulling herself on top of her, burying her face in Rachel's neck.

"Quinn, it's okay," Rachel stated as she hugged the blonde to her side tightly, only panicking a little when her cries didn't seem to be getting any quieter, "You're okay, I'm here," she murmured into the yellow hair.

Gradually, Quinn began to calm down. Her wails turned to sobs which then turned to sniffles with the occasional hiccup. She felt Rachel's hand rubbing circles on her back soothingly and nestled further against her side, focusing on the comforting words still falling from the brunette's lips.

Rachel quieted as the girl in her arms did, feeling less helpless now that Quinn seemed to have calmed. She was afraid to say anything to her pregnant companion. Not sure what might send her back into those heartbreaking sobs. So instead she moved her hand from the blonde's back to her hair, nails gently raking across the shaking girl's scalp.

"Thank you," Quinn breathed out, "I don't- I'm sorry... I don't know-"

"Shhhh," Rachel gently coaxed. She didn't want the blonde to feel pressured to talk about anything just yet. They had plenty of time in her mind. They didn't need to explain any of this right then.

Quinn was thankful the other girl was being so quiet as well as not trying to get her to talk about her breakdown as well. She'd never had someone comfort her like this before. At least not since she was a kid. Pushing a memory of her mother consoling her as a child, emanating what she believed at the time was unconditional love to the furthest corners of her mind, Quinn inhaled deeply. With her exhale she melted into the warm figure next to her along with the pillows surrounding their heads. She felt as though she could sleep for weeks. Months, even.

Rachel felt the younger girl relax against her, listening as her breathing slowed and evened out. Attempting not to analyze the events of the last hour or so, the dark haired girl let her eyes droop and her hand fall from the golden tresses to the sheets below. Quinn had drained all her energy emotionally, and was surely going to do it again tomorrow. Slowly, the brunette drifted off to sleep, and the house was quiet finally as the snow continued to fall outside.


End file.
